


Counter-Offer

by GreyFalcon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyFalcon/pseuds/GreyFalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Road Trip. What if Gadreel spoke with Abner a bit more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counter-Offer

**Author's Note:**

> All characters and situations belong to Eric Kripke, I am just playing in the sandbox.

‘Abner is alive.’ Gadreel sat in the deep cushions of the chair in Abner’s living room, unable to get over his amazement. ‘Abner. Alive.’

‘I’m not alone anymore.’

Gadreel swayed with the conflicting emotions jolting through him—the need to hug Abner and rejoice that Thaddeus hadn’t killed him. The desire to envelop Abner in his wings and just hold on. The nearly overwhelming urge to grab the other angel and fly him away to someplace small, and hidden, and safe. Somewhere the other angels could never find them.

The angel took a deep breath and stilled his rampant feelings. ‘Be silent, be still; these are the keys to survival.’ He squeezed his exultation tight until it fit in the deepest part of his heart, where Thaddeus would never find it, would never know it existed.

‘Thaddeus was dead. He will never again mangle Grace, or shred damaged wings. I no longer have to put up with his sneering, disdainful words. Or his lash, or his knife.’ Gadreel felt a different kind of exhilaration from that knowledge, something sharper, more personal. This memory didn’t uplift him in the same way that realizing Abner survived had. Nonetheless, it carried its own flavor of pleasure, of relief for his battered heart.

“I’m not a wise man, Gadreel,” Abner said from his own seat, elbows on knees. The passion in his voice filled the dim room. “But I know this. The key to happiness? It’s getting the one thing you want most—and never letting it go.”

Gadreel knew what his key was. Redemption in the eyes of the angels. Acceptance back into angelic society. Restoration of his honor, his name.

His heart cried within him. His key to happiness demanded that he kill Abner. “What if there’s a price?” he asked, his voice barely shaking.

“There’s always a price,” Abner replied. “But it’s worth paying. For me, my price is being an angel. My happiness is here, in a human.”

Gadreel rocked back in is seat, appalled. “You would willingly Fall?!”

Abner shrugged with a rueful smile. “This is not quite Falling, brother. I still have my Grace, I simply don’t use it anymore. It hurts no other; it frees me from my past. It allows me to forgive.”

“I see. You have distanced yourself from those who caused you pain.” Incredible relief pulsed through Gadreel, releasing his heart from the icy grip the younger angel’s earlier words invoked. ‘I did not understand him earlier, that’s all. Abner has no wish to join Lucifer, to become an abomination, something too terrible to contemplate. He merely wishes to be human.’

“I was a terrible angel. But I am a very good human,” Abner noted with a shrug.

Sorrow flowed in a bitter deluge through Gadreel’s frame. He crushed it to the size of a mustard seed, shoving it down into the same space that held his other emotions. The elder angel stood up, pulling the angel blade from his brown leather jacket. “Then it appears, Abner, that the price for my happiness is to be your death,” he announced solemnly.

Two strides took him next to his friend, his hand gripping the hilt of the blade so hard it shook.

Abner stared up at Gadreel, not moving from his seat. “Wait—you would—you would kill your friend? You would murder your only friend? How does that bring redemption?”

Gadreel took a great shuddering breath, suddenly hating himself. “You need to know. You deserve to know. “ His voice shook uncertainly. “Metatron requires your—death—as proof of my loyalty. My fealty.”

“Gadreel, you’re not a killer. You’re a guard, you’re one of the Shields of Eden.”

“Don’t—“ Gadreel turned his head sharply away, struggling with that too-familiar loss. “I’m not Eden’s guardian. Not anymore. And I have killed. Kevin Tran, the Prophet; I slew him.”

Abner gasped, gripping the chair in shock.

“I am nothing without this chance at redemption. Surely you can understand that!” Gadreel’s eyes held desperation and fear. “Please understand, Abner, I need this!”

Abner leaned forward earnestly. “Gadreel, I am still your friend. I want you to be free, to be back in God’s good graces. I want you to be happy; as your friend, I need for you to be happy too.”

“Then…you do not mind--?” Gadreel motioned erratically with the angel blade.

“I just don’t see how this could benefit you,” Abner said plainly. “You were never someone to slaughter others, you are a Shield! So killing your best friend? To be absolved?” He leaned back into his chair. “Does that idea lighten your heart, Gadreel? The thought of me dying by your hand, does that make you happy?”

Memory surged from where Gadreel kept it bottled…

‘Your little boyfriend is dead, Gadreel,’ Thaddeus smirked, twirling his angel blade between his fingers. ‘I killed him.’ His satisfied eyes pinned the other to where he sat, his back pressed against the stone wall. ‘The deserter who cozened up to the Traitor? Your friendship proved him corrupted beyond redemption. He died screaming; I made sure of it.’

... His body slipped from his control. Gadreel stepped back, his hand falling from the silver hilt. The angel blade slid back into its pocket within his jacket. “No,” he moaned. The word surged past his tight-fisted grip on his emotions, escaping to the outside air. He closed his eyes and swayed.

Abner caught the other and helped him back to his seat. “Sit, brother, this is too much for you at this time.” Abner knelt beside him, waiting until Gadreel’s color improved. “Metatron demanded that you do something that would break your heart. He is not trying to help you. He is trying to crush your spirit, like Thaddeus.”

Gadreel’s whole body shuddered. He put his hands over his face.

Abner pressed his point. “If Metatron sought to aid you, why would he have you kill The Prophet? Why would he have you go against God’s law? We are to protect the Prophets…the archangels themselves protect them! Why would he have you destroy that which God holds so dear?”

Gadreel held himself absolutely still. Silence and immobility would cover him while he struggled to understand.

“Has Metatron—mocked you? Scorned you? Did he make you feel small, and unworthy, as Thaddeus did for so long?”

Gadreel released a long, slow breath as he grasped the answer that rang of truth. Anger wrapped itself throughout his Grace. “He has made me his whipping boy, his assassin, his sycophant. I will end him.”

“Wait, brother, wait,” Abner stood quickly and put his hand on the other’s chest. “You are still weak. You have no plan. Patience.”

A small smile quirked at Gadreel’s face. He shoved his anger at Metatron down into nonexistence. “Strange that you would counsel patience, brother.”

Abner smiled. “Well. I learned from the best. Listen, I still ache from Thaddeus’ hands, and I was not in the dungeon nearly as long as you. You need to rest.”

Gadreel nodded reluctantly.

“So. We shall stay here with my new family. There’s a guest room, you are welcome for as long as you need. We can rest, and recover. And plan. We have time to do it right.” Abner eyed Gadreel’s vessel. “This man you wear—is he an asshole?”

“No. He’s a hunter.”

“What does he hunt?”

Gadreel paused. How to encompass the demons, the twisted humans, the witch that Sam Winchester faced? What word could tie them all together? “Darkness. He hunts darkness. I have promised to leave this vessel once it is completely healed.” He touched the worn flannel shirt gently with two long fingers. “He is almost there. I could certainly leave him now, and consider my task fulfilled.”

“Ah. You should let him get back to his business, then. There are many others available, I am certain you can find one who does not deserve life.”

“I have another vessel, one I used earlier.” Gadreel rubbed his eyes with one large hand. “I shall go claim him again.”

Abner nodded and stood. “I will turn down the bed for when you return.”

Gadreel nodded, and vanished.

***

Gadreel appeared before the Bunker, the Impala next to him. He drove it into the garage and parked it in the usual spot. Leaning his head against the driver’s side window, he put the vessel into a restful, painless sleep. Then he collected his Grace and his memories before exiting the man.

He appeared before his ‘old’ vessel in its apartment, sleeping peacefully. Permission had been given earlier, so he effortlessly slipped back into place. He rose and dressed quickly, finding himself strangely missing those boots the hunter wore. ‘I liked those boots. They were rather comfortable. I shall acquire some for myself…perhaps Abner can help.’

Filling his backpack with the things he remembered from his time in Sam Winchester, he took his vessel’s car. He drove through the remainder of the night, with his mantra rolling through his mind:

‘Abner lives.’

THE END


End file.
